You kissed me: your arms round my neck were entwined, As the vine to the oak clings when pressed by the wind; Your breath, zephyr-like from some lone balmy isle, Shed a fragrance that heightened the charm of your smile, And banished all care, as the sun at mid-day Dispels the dark clouds which obscure his bright way. And now, as fond memory, with tints bright and rare, Paints thy rich coral lips as Love hovers there, I ask but one boon may be granted to me,— That I, like the oak, may forever shield thee. III. You kissed me, and responsively my lips to yours were pressed, While trembling came a long-drawn sigh deep from that throbbing breast. Your cheeks were bathed in blushes, while those pouting lips revealed That secret I had burned to know, yet you’d so long concealed; You loved me. With what ecstasy did I your form embrace, And kiss away the starting tear which marred that beauteous face! And now when absent, darling, my thoughts revert to thee, Thine image is reflected here, true as reality, And ever thus it will remain, in colors pure and bright, As a meteor in the sky, love, amid the gloom of night. EXCERPTS FROM THE POETS. For would she of her gentilnesse, Withouten more me ones kesse, It were to me a grete guerdon. CHAUCER. * * * * * O kiss! which dost those ruddy gems impart, Or gems, or fruits, of new-found paradise, Breathing all bliss and sweetening to the heart, Teaching dumb lips a nobler exercise, O kiss! which souls, e’en souls, together ties By links of love, and only nature’s art, How fain would I paint thee to all men’s eyes, Or of thy gifts, at least, shade out some part. SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. * * * * * He her beholding, at her feet down fell, And kissed the ground on which her sole did tread, And washed the same with water, which did well From his moist eyes, and like two streams proceed. SPENSER. * * * * * These poor half-kisses kill me quite: Was ever man thus served? Amid an ocean of delight, For pleasure to be starved. DRAYTON. * * * * * I do confess thou’rt sweet; yet find Thee such an unthrift of thy sweets, Thy favors are but like the wind, That kisseth everything that meets; And since thou canst with more than one, Thou’rt worthy to be kissed by none. SIR ROBERT AYTOUN. * * * * * I do not love thee for those soft Red coral lips I’ve kissed so oft; Nor teeth of pearl, the double guard To speech, whence music still is heard; Though from those lips a kiss being taken Might tyrants melt, and death awaken. CAREW.